Rumours of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated
by trialrun
Summary: Where does Snape go after the events of HBP? Straight to the Dark Lord to receive his well deserved thanks, of course! But what about after that? With both the Order and Harry on his trail, the time has come for Snape to reveal his true allegiances.
1. Chapter 1

Follows events of HBP 

"I never expected Draco to do it without your help," Voldemort said. "He's still only a child."

_And will remain so as long as Narcissa continues her coddling,_ Severus thought. Aloud, he only said, "Yes, but now I've lost my position as a spy." 

"Of course, of course, but now that the doddering old fool is gone, it really doesn't matter that much, does it? None of the rest of them ever really trusted you anyway. And now with their leader gone..." Voldemort was more relaxed than Snape had ever seen him. He was actually—_lolling--_in his chair in front of the fireplace. For someone who was intensely private and closed off from even his most trusted servants, the fact that Snape was sitting in Voldemort's private quarters was a testament to just how very pleased Voldemort was with the events of the day. He seemed almost—human.

Snape ruefully smiled as he thought of what the Order were most likely discussing now. How they'd all been betrayed by their own spy—how Dumbledore had never really told any of them why he truly trusted him in the first place. No doubt the Potter brat was regaling them with the tale of how he'd seen Snape kill Dumbledore with his own eyes. Why Dumbledore had ever given the boy (as a first year, no less!) that invisibility cloak was beyond him. But so was the fact that the man pinned ALL of their hopes in winning this war on Potter. He burned with anger again as he thought of the events of that day. The unending gall of the boy! He could still see Lily's rage-filled eyes as the boy screamed at him in a voice that sounded more and more like James' every day. Courage came in many guises, and for the boy to call him a coward had been enough to make him snap. The child was very lucky to be alive and unharmed, particularly after attempting an unforgivable curse for the second time in a year. The twit apparently still had absolutely no conception of the mental strength needed to master any of the three Unforgivables. Really, the thought that the wizarding world was relying on Potter to save them from Voldemort was a cruel joke. Severus remembered practicing all three Unforgivables as a boy on various large insects and small animals, and he had no doubt that Tom Riddle had done the same. Heremembered havingbeen well on his way to mastering all three by the age of fifteen. Of course, the Potter brat would never think of doing such things to innocent animals. Oh no, he'd wait until the heat of battle toattempt an Unforgivable—the worst possible time to practice! Oh, how Severus hated the arrogant, meddling brat. How he truly wished he'd never been born. Or better yet, that James had never been born. Severus roused himself from his reverie when he realized that Voldemort was still speaking.

"Oh, and, out of curiosity, was Pettigrew the help you hoped he'd be in this operation? No? I still am not quite sure what use you thought he'd be, but I'm glad you took him off my hands." Voldemort chuckled at his own play on words, but Severus cringed at the thought of the treatment Peter Pettigrew had received after he outlived his usefulness to the Dark Lord. If Severus retained any thought that Voldemort still had human feelings, he would think that the sight of Pettigrew with only one hand induced feelings of guilt in the Dark Lord, but Snape suspected that it was more a case of Pettigrew's stupidity and fawning finally getting to be too much even for Voldemort.

_"I don't care what you do with him, Severus—just keep him out of my sight" were the words that had greeted him several months earlier when he had arrived in response to a late-night summons from the Dark Lord. "Perhaps he could be useful as a lab rat for testing potions. Just get him out of here before I kill him!" _

_Of course, Voldemort understood the possible ramifications of killing Peter. One did not lightly dispose of the one who had contributed the "flesh of the servant, willingly given" in the resurrection rite which now seemed so long ago._

Snape finally apparated to his final destination late that night—an abandoned shepherd's hut near Dundee on the banks of the Firth on Tay. It was on the grounds of what had once been the ancient seat of the Snape family, but since very few people knew that, and no other buildings remained on the property, the chance of ministry aurors lying in wait for him here was slim indeed. Severus fondly thought of the summers he'd spent here as a boy, practicing charms and hexes to his heart's content. He'd burnt the hut down uncountable times experimenting with destruction hexes and recreated it as many times practicing reconstitution charms. The place had been "condemned" by the muggle authorities, and as far as Snape knew, no one had been near the place in 20 years, besides himself and two others. As Snape grew older, he found that his fondness for the place did not wane, and when he decided he needed a place held in readiness for the inevitable day when he would be the subject of a manhunt by either the ministry or the Dark Lord, the old hut was the first place to come to mind. Over the years, particularly during the summers, he had steadily strengthened the wards around the boundaries of the property, as well as expanded the wizarding space within the "hut", transforming it into one of the few places on earth where he could be truly comfortable. This was the place came when he was brewing experimental potions that he had no desire to discuss with either of his Masters.

He arrived at the door, feeling the magic of the place settle down around him in pleased recognition. There was no need of a password to enter the hut—no one would have gotten to the door in the first place without the express permission of the powerful wards on the perimeter. He then stepped into a charming sitting room—one his students would have been shocked to see, given his supposed preference for the dank dungeons at Hogwarts. A fire was burning in the fireplace and bookshelves lined the walls. Many of his students would also have been shocked by Snape's book selection here as well, for books of both poetry and literature were interspersed with potions, dark arts, and other experimental magic books. There were three doors leaving the sitting room, behind which were a bedroom, kitchen, and laboratory space. Snape paused in his walk toward the kitchen when he heard a noise from the bedroom.Heopened the door to the bedroom andlooked over at the bed from which loud snores were emanating. A garishly decorated night cap peaked out from under the bedclothes. A huge trunk was open at the foot of the bed, displaying robes of various bright colours. Snape walked over to the bed and poked the slumbering man in the shoulder. The man rolled over, opened his eyes and blearily stared up at Snape.

"You're back," he yawned and started to sit up.

"Hello, Albus," Snape replied.


	2. Chapter 2

Follows events of HBP. Anything recognizable is from the lovely and very talented Ms. Rowling. I'm just borrowing some of her characters. I solemnly swear to return them in the same state in which I found them.

"What's so funny?"

For the second time that evening, Severus was sitting in front of a fire with one of his Masters, but this time he was in his own sitting room, relaxing in his own favorite chair. Albus was also sitting in front of the fire, but he seemed a little pensive, and uncharacteristically tired or possibly even a little depressed. Snape knew that he had still not resolved all of the issues with some of the experimental potions he'd given Dumbledore, and one in particular could be causing some of the symptoms he was seeing. Thankfully, it would not be necessary for Dumbledore to take that particular one any longer.

Snape smirked again and said, "Three down--one to go." At Dumbledore's questioning look, Snape explained, "The Marauders—Lupin is the only one left now."

"You make it sound like you're on a mission," said in a reproving tone.

"In a way it has been, and I can't deny that none of them have been mourned by me, Peter least of all. However, Lupin is the least repulsive of the bunch, and he's certainly the most harmless, for all he's a werewolf and has nearly killed me twice!"

Dumbledore showed his unwillingness to traverse that path yet againwith Severusby changing the subject.

"I do apologize for taking your bed, Severus, but I was unwilling to take up Peter's... quarters," Dumbledore said, glancing with a shudder at the cage in the corner of the sitting area.

"Yes, the rat was always every bit as slovenly as his human counterpart was, and the twelve years he spent exclusively as a rodent didn't improve his hygiene. He certainly won't be missed." With a lazy flick of his wand, Severus banished the cage and its disgusting contents into the laboratory area to be disposed of later.

"Yet he was more useful in the end than we could possibly have hoped or dreamed," Dumbledore mused as he stretched his hands in front of him and observed them. "And it _is_ nice to have both hands whole again."

They then fell into a comfortable silence in which both men processed the events of the day and came to terms with their very changed circumstances. There was much to plan and much to prepare, but that could all wait until tomorrow...or the next day.

_Several weeks later:_

Hermoine was crying. No, sobbing would better describe her reaction to what she was seeing.

"Hermione, you're at a wedding, not a funeral!" Ron hissed at her.

"I know, b-but just l-look at the four of them!"

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry as the two exchanged glances over Hermione's bent head. Since many of the same people would want to come to both weddings, and the future was so uncertain, Bill, Fleur, Tonks, and Remus had made the decision to have a double wedding. As Harry looked at them, he was struck again by how ironic it was that a werewolf, whose body went through an enforced, painful transformation once a month, matched so perfectly together with a woman who regularly morphed herself just because she could. After the initial surprise, Harry had wondered that he'd never noticed their affinity for one another. But then, he hadn't seen much of either one of them in the past year. And then there were Bill and Fleur—he with his permanently scarred face and body, and she with her ethereal, flawless beauty. His thoughts then turned to Ron and Hermione, she with her love of intellectual pursuits, and Ron, who would prefer not to crack open a book unless it was absolutely necessary. And then there was Ginny—but no, he shouldn't even be thinking about her.

But there she was, bright hair and all, sitting beside her mother two rows in front of him. She, with her parents and six older brothers in contrast to him—no parents, no siblings, no relatives who were even still alive, besides the Dursleys. One day, though, there would be more members of the Potter family, both red and black-haired, both hazel and green-eyed. One day he and Ginny would stand up there in front of everyone and he could tell the world that she was his...no, no, he really should concentrate on the vows that the couples at the front were now exchanging. But then concentration had never been his strong point, had it...

_"No Unforgivables from you...until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!"_

_"Clear your mind, Potter! Legilimens!"_

_"...you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord."_

_"Discipline your mind, Potter! Legilimens!"_

Why did everything have to come back to Snape? Why couldn't he just forget about him? Forget about the taunts, and the failed Occlumency lessons. Forget the hateful look on his face when he killed Dumbledore, and then later when he dueled Harry. Harry burned inside again at the thought of the "duel" between the two of them. He knew that Snape could easily have killed him right then. But no, he was saving Harry for the Dark Lord, because of course both Voldemort and Snape knew the prophecy in its entirety, and probably had known it ever since Snape carried word to him after hearing it directly from Trelawney. But then it came to Harry with a flash of insight. _Why then had Voldemort been so desperate to get the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries. Why?_ He turned to Hermione who was now leaning against Ron and smiling as she wiped her eyes. He'd ask her as soon as the wedding was over.

Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter, including those who perhaps tried to and couldn't because I inadvertently left the anonymous review blocker on. Anonymous reviewers—please feel free to review now! (hint, hint) This is the very first time for me to write any kind of fiction, so I'm definitely learning as I go. Any constructive criticism is very welcome.


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